The Mourning Sun
by UrufuTatsumaki
Summary: When Harry finally snaps under the pressure, he leaves his old life behind, in pursuit of much simpler, carnal pleasures. He joins the dark side. "I can't do it anymore, Ginny. It's them vs. you vs. me."
1. Chapter 1

The sky loomed dark overhead, casting shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The lake, black as night, wrenched wrestlessly in it's prison, the earth that surrounded it. The wind, cold and sharp, sent chills down even the thickest skinned or thickest coated student. None more so then Harry Potter.

The Chosen one. The boy who lived. The one who rebound the Dark Lord's killing curse back at him, even as a baby. Famous around these parts. And he was sick of it all. He didn't understand how they could all just stand there, idly, and watch as he suffered. His parents were killed. He would never know them. Never feel their warm gaze on the back his head as he was presented in front of their friends. No, He would never know. Yet, the ones around him, whom claimed to love him, smiled in his direction. Directed towards him. They were HAPPY.

Grumbling quietly, Harry made his way quickly from the lakeside, up the dusty, moving stairs, and entered the Gryffindor Common Room. The password was muttered to the fat lady in a harsh tone, and she knew not to bother with him.

"_Muffliato_." He muttered, pointing his wand in no general direction. His bedroom, which he had quickly made his way to from the common room and up the stairs. "How could they?" He asked himself, staring at the picture of his parents he kept on his nightside table. "How could they just sit there and WATCH?" He roared, his voice shaking the window. "Day After Day, Night after Night! They just sit there and watch me! My scar, burning! My mind, wheeling with the torment I feel, as assured as the sun in the morning and the moon in the NIGHT!"

Crash. The picture was now against the wall on the other side of the room, the glass shards scattered across the mishappen room. Suddenly, light flooded the darkened room.

"Harry?" Ron's voice penetrated the silence like the light before him, a Herald to the Unwelcome.

"What?" He spat, not even bother with the facade anymore.

"Are you ok?" He asked, stepping into their shared room and shutting the door quietly. He walked over to his bed, leaving the light off.

"Do you think I am alright, Ron?" He retorted, getting off the four poster bed. "What kind of question is that to ask an ORPHAN who faces The DARK LORD on a YEARLY basis, and Nearly DIES everytime?" He raged, pacing back and forht, his hands a flailing mess all over the place, not able to control his emotions.

"Yeah... but you don't." He muttered stupidly, his ears growing hot and red. He wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"Yeah, I live Ron. I survive! But what Kind of life is this?! Constantly Tormented Nightly, visions of HIS face, HIS actions! Why? WHY?" He screamed at the moon, staring at the window. Full and Bright, it stared back at him, laughing, taunting. "I'm just so sick of it all.." He finished quietly, beating his fist against the cold, unrelenting cement.

"I...I dunno." The Weasley whispered, looking down at the sheets.

"Then Forget it." Harry murmered, his want held in his hand, the warm wood pulsing slightly beneath his cold, clammy fingers. It no longer felt like an extension of him anymore, just another piece of wood. "I'm done with this." He whispered, pointing it at the ground below him. "_Accio_ Broom!" He cried, and waited. Soon, the Firebolt was flaoting outside of his window, broken free from the Broom Shack.

"Goodbye, Ronald., give this to your sister." He told his former best friend, dropping a note onto the ground. Leaping out of the window, he caught on to the broom, and pulled himself up.

"Wait! Harry!" Ron cried, jumping up out of the bed.

"No. No more waiting."Harry responded, before the broom responded to his touch, and nearly his thoughts. It zoomed off, blasting like a rocket, cutting through the harsh night. He was done.


	2. Chapter 2

** The barrier was tricky. Having to disembark his broom roughly a mile before hand and walk through it for another mile afterwords, it left him open to ambush. Luck was on his side however, and he quickly rose back into the night sky on his broom. The cold wind of the world whipped away at his cloak and face, numbing him. After several hours, he didn't feel the sharp tug anymore. Harry only had one destination in mind, and it was illustrated by the Giant Full Moon, like a pointer in a mall entitled "You are here"**

** With his broom high above the ocean, Harry flew across it faster then any plane, falcon, or hawk. He **_**was**_** the wind. As he flew, he continued to think about what was done to him. He listed these things off. 1) Abused by his "Guardians". 2) Requests for help ignored countless times, minus his second year at Hogwarts. 3) Constantly being kept in the dark about his OWN life. 4) Repeated attempts at his life, and 5) Constant Verbal Abuse by his "Peers". With each thought, a stream of Tears, hot and salty, fell from his eyes, pouring into the ocean, his Laments being forgotton.**

** Time for something new. He needed to do several things, before his main plan could be set in motion. It was true, Harry Potter had a plan. A way to turn his life around, to make everything better. Step One - A new Identity. This included a new look, name, history, and living quarters. Step Two - The Right Tools. Without them, this plan would be down the loo in several seconds. Step Three - The proper Training. This is what would be the hardest thing to find. He would look long and hard though, scouring the land for the proper Master to take him as an Apprentice. And he would find him. After that, all it left was Step Four - Execute the plan**

** Finally, he saw it. Wiping the tears from his blurry eyes, He found what he was looking for. A Road. It was nondescrepit, an inconspicous slash of black with yellow thread in the centre, cut into the forest floor. Landing on the edge, Harry used his magic to shrink his broom and put it in his pocket. Next, he disguised himself so thoroughly even his own mother.. well, Aunt would not recognize him. Holding himself steady, Harry took a deep breath and did the only thing he could do.**

** He held his wand out with his right arm. Several moments later, a large bang could be heard and the large, triple decker knight bus came into view. Swerving on the road, it pulled up next to Harry. Sighing, he quickly came up with a new name for himself. **

** "An' jus' who are you?" Stan Turnpike asked, holding out a hand to help Harry onboard.**

** Grabbing the shabby man's hand and hauling himself onto the purple death trap, Harry responded with his new alias. "Lector Cage." Spinning himself into the first bed behind Ernie, he handed Stan a bag of Galleons. He murmered his destination, and with a nod from Stan, he pocketed the Galleons. **

** "You heard the kid! Go, Go, Go!" He shouted, as Ernie shut the door, put it in gear, and slammed the accel. They were off, tearing through the night.**

** Sighing, Harry tried to get some sleep. He was exhausted. It turned out to be not as difficult as he imagined. Within moments, and despite the constant bang's, shakes, and erratic movements, Harry was unconscious, in dreamland.**

** "Gone? What do you mean Gone?" Hermione shook Ron profusely, his red hair flopping. **

** "Yeah Ron, where did he go?" Ginny shrieked, taking her brother from the Granger and shaking him harder.**

** "Ronald... Why didn't you try and stop him?" This went on for several minutes, almost for half an hour, until Minerva McGonagall stepped in and shoo'd the others away. She quickly brought him up to Dumbledore- Her office.**

** "Well you see professor, there was a lot of yelling and smashing things, and then Harry just summoned his Broom and flew off." Ron explained sheepishly, with several stuttering instances in the sentence.**

** "And you didn't try to stop him?" She asked, her lips becoming a thin line.**

** "I tried professor, Honest, but I think I was in shock.." He explained, looking down. He was just as Disappointed in himself as she was.**

** "Very well. Do you have any idea where he's headed?" **

** "No, professor." Came the quiet response, as His ear's turned beet red and hot. A tear slid down his face and hit the floor with a soft **_**Plunk!**_

** Turning to a portrait on the wall, she rapped on it hard with her fist. "Phineas! Check your other portrait in Grimmauld place." She ordered, as the grumbling ex-headmaster walked out of the painting. They waited patiently. **

** "No one's there, professor." He announced, returning. "Now if you will excuse me, I'm going back to sleep.**

** "Uhm.. Professor.. Can I go back to bed now, that's all I know, Honest." Ron asked, looking at her with hot, salty tears welling up in the sprig of his eyes.**

** "Oh, very well." She muttered, dismissing him from dumbl- her office.**

** "Wake up, Lector. We've arrived at your destinat'n." Stan shouted as he shook Harry from his sleep. Sitting up in the bed, he looked out the window. There it was in all it's glory. **

**Durmstrang academy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**[{To all my faithful readers. This particular version of the chapter will be cleaned up when I get back home. I am writing it at a friend's, and her Wordpad is acting up. Please be patient. Your favourite Werewolf, Urufu}]**

** "So you wish to join this academy of learning, do you?" Igor Karkaroff asked Harry, as he examined the boy from head to foot.**

**After walking up the long walkway into the Northern academy of learning, Harry was suspiciously scrutinized by Karkaroff's eye. "Why transfer now, the seventh year?" He asked, his thick accent strangling the words.**

** "I had to get away from some unpleasent situations." He replied calmly, smoothly. His voice was three octaves deeper, and rleetively smoother. He stood in a way that exuded Confidence. This was Lecter Cage, cool, calm and collected. **

** "Ah... very well. I shall allow it merely because I have been in the same situation." He replied grimly, before pushing forward a single page contract and black quill. "To join our academy, you must merely sign this sheet." He said, before pausing. "If you are using a fake name, don't sign it as such. You've been warned." Nodding, Harry picked up the familiar black quill.**

** "Very well. Once you see the name written, I will explain everything if you wish it. If you don't need one, just nod and continue on your day." Lecter said, before placing the quill on the page. **_**Harry Potter**_** appeared on the line in thick, red ink. Likewise, it also appeared on the back of his hand, scarred forever. **

** "This particular brand of Quill instantly cuts deep enough for a scar." Harry's new headmaster explained, grabbing the contract and rolling it up. He didn't bother looking at the name. "Room 223.. Yes, that should be **_**interesting**_**..." Karkaroff smiled darkly, looking into a ledger and writing down a name. "Off you go then."**

** "Enjoy your stay, Harry." Only after Harry had left the office and headed to his new dorm did he realize. He had known all along. He was clutching a note that had been pressed into his hand by Karkaroff as he was dismissing him. He would read it later.**

**~l~l~l~**

** Walking through a stone passageway, dimly lit by ethereal candles, Harry was counting off Doors until he made it to his, and his roomates, room. He had asked for a single, but it couldn't be done. **

** "219, 220, 221, 222, 223. There we go." Harry muttered, as he stared at it. This was his room now. Should he knock? What the hell, best do what Lector would do. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he turned it to the right and calmly strode into the brightly lit room. Inside was a boy about his own age. He was standing in front of him, his hand outstretched, trying to grab a doorknob that wasn't there.**

** "Who are you?" The kid asked, a sneer on his lips. "And what are you doing in my room?" The boy had short, cropped brown hair. He wore the red robes that all Durmstrang boys wore, as well as a bead necklace with a dragon tooth charm in the centre. **

** "The name's Lector, and I think you mean OUR room." He responded, with his own sneer. "Just transferred this morning." He explained, before pushing the boy aside and walking into the rather large bedchamber. Inside was a large television, two beds, both queen sized, and another door, most likely the bathroom.**

** "Oh... Shit. Well, my name's Damien." He said, before grabbing a rather large staff. "You're bed's on the right. I was just on my way to class. I guess I'll see you later." He called, leaving. As the door was closing, Harry caught a glimpse of other students leaving their dorm as well, all of them carrying a similar staff, with only a few exeptions. **

** Walking over to the-His bed, he plopped down on it, and put his hands behind his head. Only then did he remember the note that was clutched ferverishly in it.**

_**Room 415 at 10:30 am.**_

** It was all it said. Glancing at a large clock on the wall, Harry found that it was already Quarter to Nine. He had just enough time to redo his appearance more permanently. Getting up, he opened the door to what he assumed was the bathroom, and found he was correct. Standing in the mirror, He grinned. At this point, his appearance was as follows. His natural black hair was blonde, and his green eyes brown. He was roughly a half a foot taller, and slightly thinner. **_**Mrs. Dursley really knew how to feed me**_**, he mused, before shaking his head. Best to forget all about that life.**

** He no longer wore his glasses. Whipping out his wand, he muttered a few words, and his eyes began to ache, before simmering down into a gentle throb, and finally, were back to normal. Rubbing them with his hand, he smiled. They were now permanently brown, his very DNA sequence Altered. He did the same for his hair, and new body style. The only thing his Glamour didn't hide was the **_**Harry Potter**_** scar on the back of his left hand. He feared that would never leave. Grabbing a bandage, he wrapped it around his wrist, up onto the scars, and back into the wrist. It would have to do.**

** Time to redo his wardrobe. **

** Stepping out of the bathroom, he looked around for something that would help. Finally, he spotted something that would help greatly. A Fireplace. And beside it, in a cup was the familiar green powder that was Floo.**

** Grabbing a heaping handful of it, he lit the logs with his wand and tossed it in the inferno. Stepping into the dragon green flame, he took a deep breath and confidently shouted "Knockturn". With a flash, Harry Potter disappeared from the room...**

** ... and Lecter Cage reappeared in the Dark Alleyway. Looking around, he ignored the other witches and wizards trying to sell him things, until he saw what he needed.**

** A bold sign covered in something Harry had a strange feeling was skin sat atop a pole in front of a nondescript Shop. The sign was spelled out in Bones and read "Shifting Skins". **

** "Hello, is anyone here?" He roared, his confidence surging. **

** "Yes yes, no need to shout, boy." The clerk said from beside him, appearing as if from the shadows. "What Can I do for you?" He asked in a snake like voice.**

** "I need a set of Durmstrang robes, as well as another kind of robes." He explained, standing on a pedastal the clerk motioned for him to.**

** "Very well, what kind of robes?" The clerk asked as he was taking the measurements for his requested robes.**

** "They need to be either night black or automatically camouflage to my surroundings. It must have a hood, and each section must be loose to not restrict, but tie-able to my limbs so they cannot be removed by snags." He explained, trying to keep his reasoning for them a secret.**

** "Also, I need a sash and pair of durable, fingerless and/or fingered gloves the same color as the robes." He added as an afterthought... You never knew when they would come in handy. **

** "Very well. We can provide all of that. Your order will be ready within a week. Please drop in again next monday. You must pay now, however." The clerk explained, writing down what Harry needed. "The total cost will be... 283 Galleons, 17 Sickles and Twelve Knuts." He explained, as Harry withdrew his moleskin bag. Producing 300 Galleons, he slid the rather large pile across the dusty countertop. Even in the dim light, the clerk's eyes shone as the pile of Galleons was dragged into his own moleskin sack, then shrunk accordingly. **

** "A tip for ya..." Harry.. No, Lecter winked heavily, before smiling and exiting the shop. Just a few more things, and he could get to his appointment.**

**~l~l~l~**

** "Well then.. Lecter, was it? Do you know what classes you will be taking here at Durmstrang?" A large man with greasy black hair and a hook nose that reminded him uneasily of Snape asked, staring down at him from halfmoon glasses. Like all members of Durmstrang, he was unnaturally built, lean and dense muscle layered around his bones, ready to smash a skull open if one so desired.**

** "I have thought about it. I need a set of classes that will teach me about Death Magic, Potions, Enchantments, Dark Arts, Intercultural Magic, and a Combat class that will both tone my focus and strength, as well as Weapons and their practical use." He replied, listing them all off with a grim determination.**

** "Any particular reason you chose those classes?" The man asked him, eyeing him suspicously. **

** Harry could think of many excuses to tell him, but figured the truth this one time would be easier. Unwrapping the bandages on his left hand, he showed him the scars that spelled his true name.**

** "Of course. Now that I think about it, it would make sense to come here." The man said, before standing up. Wrapping his arms around his back, he held onto the wrist of his right with his left in the small of his back, and paced. "Most of those classes are wildly available, but let me make a suggestion. Instead of Death Magic, go into Stealth Magic, and Perhaps take up Languages, and Transfiguration." He said, as he looked into a leatherbound ledger. Making notes and humming to himself, the man scribbled some things into it. Harry took the time in the silence to look around. The room was rather large, but a large oak desk in the centre, and shelves lining the walls filled with ancient Tomes made it appear otherwise. It was slightly dark with deep crimson candles spewing a soft bloodred/black light were positioned in each of the four corners. Harry was impressed.**

** "Okay... Now then young Potter.. or should I say Cage, this is your class schedule. Stick to it, as it's the only copy you will get. You are to be expected in class first thing tomorrow morning. I expect you have a set of Robes on the order... Your staff will arrive in the morning. Have a good night, Mr. Cage."**

** And with that, the young man left the office and made his way back to the dorm he shared with Damien.**

_**Class Schedule for Lecter Cage**_

_**Term One**_

_**9:00 - 10:00**_

_**Enchantments**_

_**10:10-12:10**_

_**Potions**_

_**12:20 - 1:20**_

_**Stealth Magic**_

_**1:30 - 2:30**_

_**Lunch**_

_**2:40-3:40**_

_**Dark Arts**_

_**Term Two**_

_**9:00 - 10:00**_

_**Languages**_

_**10:10 - 12:10**_

_**Combat**_

_**12:20 - 1:20**_

_**Intercultural Magic**_

_**1:30 - 2:30**_

_**Lunch**_

_**2:40 - 3:40**_

_**Transfiguration**_


	4. Chapter 4

**"Get up you lazy Git!" Came a shout from across the room, before a pillow hit Harry in the face. Normally he would have searched around for his Glasses, but he didn't have them anymore. No more worrying about breaking them! Harry was slightly relieved. Yawning, he stretched his arms up to the ceiling before turning to Damien. **

** "Thanks." He muttered, before sliding out of his bed, not bothering to make it like He had. Pulling on his trousers and shirt, both black and bare, he looked around for his wand, before remembering he put it under his pillow the night before. Thank you Paranoia. Sliding it into the holster-strap he had sewn in, he looked brightly to the door, before turning back to Damien.**

** "What class do you have now?" He asked, realizing he didn't know where the rooms were, and his timetable didn't say where or even with who.**

** "Stealth Magic... It's a rite of Passage to find your classes on your own here. You have two days to get them all memorized before you start getting detentions. Enjoy." Damien called, as he exited the room, cackling madly.**

** "Well that was helpful... What could Damien need with Stealth Magic?" Harry wondered out loud, slightly bemused. Suddenly, a sharp knock erupted from the door. "Coming!" Harry called, making sure he was presentable. He was.**

** "Are you Lecter Cage?" A man in crimson colored robes asked, after Harry opened the door. Nodding, the man thrust a package into his hands and told him to sign a piece of paper. The package was roughly 6 feet tall, and looked similar to his Broom when his godfather sent him in his third year at Hogwarts. He looked feverishley at his bandaged hand and at the paper, indicating he had to use his real name. "Don't worry, it's befuddled so only Karkaroff can see it." **

** "Very well." The newly confident boy spoke, using his newly perfected "Lecter Handwriting" on it, his quill gliding across the surface of the parchment like a swan across a lake.**

** "Have a good day, Mr. Cage." The man said, before leaving. Closing the door, Harry ripped open the package. It was indeed his staff. Twirling it around, he struck it against the cold stones of the ground, and a burst of fire erupted from the end. "Nice." He muttered, before grabbing a bag filled with Quills, Parchment, and other items he would need. He went on a small shopping spree at Knockturn alley, and bought everything he would need and then some. Looking at the wooden door with a large grin plastered on his new face, he reached for the knob and turned. Time for a new day.**

**~l~l~l~**

** Wandering around the castle, he soon found a pattern. All Combat-esque classes were on the bottom floor, in the basement. All classes involving fire was at the top, so that meant Potions. In the west wing was a large tower he guessed was for Enchantments and things, for it was very large, easily enough room to practice. On the East wing was another tower, though not as large, and Harry guessed regular Classrooms, for lectures and things, or Culture and Language, History and Runes, etc. He was still unsure what several floors were for, so he was ignore them, for now. His first class was Enchantments, onto the west Tower!**

** Arriving nearly twenty minutes late, the teacher looked at the clock as he barged through the door, like a cool wind on a summer day. "Sorry I'm late!" He boomed, flashing a smile he had taken from Gilderoy Lockhart and mixed with his confidence from **_**Felic Felicity**_**.**

** "Only twenty minutes late... You must be quite resourceful. You must be Lecter." The teacher, a man that reminded Harry of Ogres responded, chuckling lightly. "Lecter, You can go stand... over in between Rory and Aaron." And he literally meant stand. The entire class was up and standing in a circle. He motioned his arm towards two boys that waved, large smiles plastered on their faces. Gliding over, Harry took his place in between them, as the teacher began his lecture.**

** "Now class, Everyone here remembers **_**Wingardium Leviosa**_**, correct? Well, I thought I would kickstart the school year with a game. Wands at the ready. When I throw this quaffle into the air, you must pass it to the other person using only **_**Wingardium Leviosa**_**. Be warned. If it hits the ground, it will explode, sending stinksap all over you." The professor announced. "Ready, Class?" **

** "Ready Professor Churchill." The class chorused, the thirty seventeen year old's deep voices boomed in chorus, minus Harry's. He would know for next time. **

** "GO!" He called, tossing the quaffle into the centre of the group. Taking the initiative, Harry immediately sprung out with his wand and caught it with the charm. **

** "Ready Aaron?" He called to the boy on his right, whom nodded. Flicking his wand, it went flying towards the other boy, whom caught it swiftly. It easily progressed around the room, until the professor called out "Only every second person!" This meant it would skip Harry. Taking a step back, he watched the ball pass between every second person, until one boy panicked and tried to grab it. It instantly exploded, and the lone boy was covered in stinksap, a barrier seeming to form to protect the other students. **_**"I get it... It's a voice activated enchantment!" **_**Harry mused, as the class laughed at the boy, whom grinned sheepishly.**

** "Well done, Avery, well done." The professor Jeered, as the boy cleaned himself off with his wand. "Now class, What did you learn?" **

** "The charm was voice activated." Harry said confidently. **

** "And?" The teacher asked, though a sparkle in his eye told him he was doing good for his first day.**

** "And It's an Absolute." Aaron called out, as the teacher began to praise him. **

** "Exactly! See class, an Absolute is an enchantment that follows its make exactly. It cannot go against it's orders, unlike **_**Wingardium leviosa**_**, which, if the user stops concentrating, ends." He explained, before smiling. **

** "That's all for today class. You all did well. Harry, Aaron, you both did excellent! Avory, Let me help.." The teacher sighed, helping to clean off the stink sap. "To everyone, Be prepared! This is the enchantment that we will be working on all week, and I'm afraid it won't be as fun as this."**

** "Well.. that was productive." Harry said, no sarcasm in his voice at all. He had no idea what the term Absolute meant, and now he did. As he left, he couldn't help wonder to himself - **_**What does My future hold now?**_


End file.
